Fragmentation coils around the spiraling thread, ideas meld into one. Tell me your secret, ordinary whisper of chaos.
The rapid pulse of unseen thoughts disintegrating—birds as spent memories—can a specter win?
Seed phrase: in time’s fabric, unravels a myriad of passages, indeterminate fables light like phosphorescence at the fracture of a broken dream.
Cross those hidden rivers; what lies behind?
A fable, perhaps? Tread lightly among the stones.
Listen closely, echoes bounce back, stray signals amidst predicates standing lifeless.
“And slipping into the night, light turned heavy as liquid time distortions channeled through unseen alligators…”